


Milestones

by JasonBall34



Category: Artemis Fowl - Eoin Colfer
Genre: F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-14 03:41:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28914027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JasonBall34/pseuds/JasonBall34
Summary: Collection of one-shots about Artemis and Holly's life together as a couple, one-shots which may or may not actually feature milestones.New! Short #4 out now (3-6-21)
Relationships: Artemis Fowl II/Holly Short
Comments: 17
Kudos: 30





	1. Inching

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure if/when I'll have more one-shots for this collection. This one here is about a common subject for A/H fics, the topic has been done a million times, but I'm trying a specific plot element I haven't seen before. Hopefully sweet.
> 
> Please leave a comment if you have the time, positive or negative. They really make my day. :)

Artemis awoke to what was perhaps his least favorite sound in the entire universe.

Nestled in the crook of his arm was Holly, her caramel skin glowing in the morning sunlight which filtered through the bedroom window. But she was crying. And they weren't happy tears. He knew her more than well enough by now to tell the difference. Their decades together had ensured that. Holly's happy tears were reserved for special occasions. Their wedding, the birth of their child, the birth of their second... Her tears of joy would always fill the room, and his heart, with secondhand exuberance. This was not that.

His stomach lurched at the sight and sound of her distress, and so he started stroking her auburn locks and holding her closer, as if this would help whatever was the matter.

"Holly, what on earth's the problem?" He racked his brain for the possible cause, even as Holly attempted to compose herself and speak, now that he was awake.

"I... I woke up... and then I was watching you sleep, and... and... I saw it."

"Saw what?" Artemis scanned the room for anything out of place, holding her protectively, the distant tendrils of fear creeping up on him. It didn't sound like the children were up yet. The morning light was normal. Neither of them were injured. If there had been an intruder, surely she'd have woken him...

Holly wormed her way out of his grasp to sit up beside him. She nodded pointedly at his own head. "It's your hair. Oh gods, your _hair,_ Arty."

Artemis was puzzled, a feeling he was not too keen on. He'd suspect he was being joshed if her tears weren't so real. He ran a hand over his head to make sure his hair was still there. Yes, there it was. Messy from the night, perhaps, but still plenty of it. He'd inherited a slight widow's peak from his father, but nothing too serious. He looked about the pillows for any hairs that might have fallen out. None immediately jumped out at him. He stroked his face, feeling the correct amount of morning stubble.

"I think you should take a look in the mirror," she said, with the bearing of a person breaking the news to a man that his wife's been killed. Sadly, during her career at the LEP she'd had to deliver just that type of news, to far too many people, on far too many occasions.

Holly's dread taking hold in his own bones now, Artemis climbed out of bed and fastened a silk robe about himself.

Holly remained on the four-poster, hugging the bedding tightly around her as a substitute for her Artemis' warmth. She watched him trudge away, into their bathroom, and saw the bright light spill out from the doorway now. Doubtless Artemis was presently peering into the looking glass.

"Ah," he muttered. "I see."

When he emerged from the bathroom to climb back in bed, Holly was watching him expectantly. "You see?" she urged.

Artemis sighed. "It's only a grey hair, Holly." He absent-mindedly ran his fingers over his right temple, where the offending hair had appeared overnight.

Holly's mournful expression indicated she somewhat disagreed as to the severity of the situation. "No, Artemis, no it isn't _only a grey hair._ It means you're _mortal_."

"I don't believe that was ever in question, was it? Sadly, I'm only _named_ after a deity... I could dye it, if it detracts from my attractiveness."

Holly frowned. "For _one second_ , Artemis, can't you take this seriously? I'm losing you, slowly, every second of every day, and it _hurts._ Oh, gods, it hurts. And now the evidence is right there in plain sight."

Artemis gathered her into his arms. "I take it more seriously than I do anything, love. And that's the truth." His voice broke a little. "If I were to let it, the guilt... it would consume me, knowing that one day I'll be forced to leave you behind. It was you who convinced me to love openly despite it, I'll have you recall..."

Holly kissed him then, as if to say _I know, and I don't regret it._ Artemis' kiss of reciprocation was one of relief at her resolve. Their decades together had allowed them to become quite sophisticated at communicating through a kiss. One time, they had foiled a plot because their captor had allowed them one kiss before being sent to their deaths.

After the kiss, and after a minute's contemplation, she sighed. "I know, I know... 'better to have loved and lost' and all that... But boy, is it hard sometimes." Artemis nodded in agreement. And then Holly clung to Artemis for dear life, as if this would keep him alive beyond his time. If holding him close would actually extend his life, she knew she'd never let go.

He kissed the top of her head, and held her tight in return. "As long as you won't regret our life together."

Holly didn't hesitate. "Never. And you know that."

"Never ever?"

"Never ever," she confirmed.

"Then that's all we can do. And besides, I made it to fifty with no grey. That's quite good for a human male. The widow's peak isn't too pronounced either, no?"

"No," Holly was forced to admit, pulling back to observe his hairline, and the speck of grey. "But now that the reality of it is in front of me, I'm really not liking the term _widow's peak._ "

"Too foreboding?"

"Yeah."

Artemis nodded. "Well, the reality of it is hardly in front of you. With the amount of magic I've been exposed to over the years, and the simple act of marrying a fairy, combined with the therapeutics I'm developing with Myles, I'm quite certain that you'll not be a widow anytime soon. You will be stuck with me for another century or two at the least." He grinned. "If you can handle me, that is."

Holly made sure he saw her eyes roll at that, but what she said was, "Arty?"

"Yes, love?"

"There's no one I'd rather be stuck with. For _any_ length of time."


	2. Theory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: I honestly didn't expect to be back so soon here. I had meant for this to be a work I slowly add to, dedicated to milestones in their relationship that I hammer out slowly over time. Some heavy stuff, some happy stuff... things that couples go through. But then I had this one-shot idea today that I just had to write. It's not a milestone. But do I want to maintain two separate open works here, one for milestones and one for non-milestones? No, not really. So we'll just re-title this collection in our heads to "various short stories about A/H, which may or may not be about milestones." All my one-shots, milestone or not, have generally positive vibes and nice endings and celebrate A/H, so there's no reason they don't belong under one umbrella if they're short standalones like these two are. If I ever significantly break my usual tone or something is too long, it will be separate from this. And besides: even if a one-shot isn't seemingly about a major life event, every day in this couple's life is a milestone all on its own. So there. :) Comments, negative or positive, are still much appreciated!

_Beep._ "Holly, if you're still awake, would you be so kind as to come up to my laboratory? I could use your assistance in testing a theory." _Click._

This wasn't an unusual request for Holly to hear over the house's intercom. Over the years, Artemis had asked her to come provide input on and/or assist him with many different experiments in his lab. Sometimes he just needed someone to ramble to. Were his experiments always the most interesting things in the world to her? No. But he didn't like it when she called it a la-boring-atory, and she loved him despite his occasional being a bore, so she was happy to go see what he was up to.

She got up from their sofa, memorized the current page of the book she was reading, the classic " _The Straw That Broke the Centaur's Back_ ," and took the stairs at a leisurely pace up to the lab.

The sight that greeted her in the lab was also not an unusual one. Dozens of test tubes and beakers that lined the white countertops were filled with colorful liquids. She saw red liquids, yellow liquids, purple, green, you name it. And then there was Artemis, in the center of it all, and it looked like a fair amount of the colored liquids had ended up on his usually spotless lab coat. It was the closest his clothes had ever resembled tie-dye in his life. His face had the stubble that went along with a late night in the lab. He clapped once at her arrival.

"Good evening, Holly. I have here, as you can see, several colorful concoctions. That is, I hope you can see. I'm assuming you've not gone colorblind in the last few hours."

"Uh-huh." She cracked a grin. "You know Arty, you'd better not have asked me up here just to have me hold something again. Can't you get one of the kids to do that tomorrow or something?"

"You wound me, my dear. And, trust me, this requires _your_ assistance, not the children's. By the way, are they retired for the evening?"

"Yeah."

"Good. Now, come here, if you please." Artemis beckoned her to an area with red, white, and blue liquids in beakers.

"Well, well. What's all this? Are you dyeing an American flag?"

Artemis held a beaker with a little bit of red liquid out to her. "Drink this."

" _What_."

"I'm conducting a taste test. Try it." He lightly swirled the glass, as if to prove its content wasn't dangerous.

Holly crossed her arms. "I'm not Alice, Artemis. I don't just drink random stuff. Tell me what's in it."

Artemis huffed, as if all his fun had been ruined. "Fine. It's puréed strawberry, if you must know. Now drink."

Holly eyed him very suspiciously. "What _is_ this about?"

"I told you. It's a taste test," he said, as if this was all anyone needed to know. Then he adopted the glint in his eye that she knew and loved. Oh how she loved it. " _Trust_ me," he grinned.

At that, Holly grabbed the beaker and downed its contents. After a moment, Holly smacked her lips and proclaimed, "Well, it's good strawberry."

"Hmm... This confirms my suspicion."

"Which is...?"

"That was the one with the strawberry in it."

Holly had half a mind to splash something onto Artemis' person, but she couldn't be sure it wouldn't be explosive. "Artemis..." she growled. Sometimes the man could be rather obtuse.

"Alright, now try this one." The beaker he now held out had what Holly had thought from afar to be white liquid. Peering at the stuff now, though, it was more of an off-white, slightly yellow. When Artemis swirled it, it was obviously very thick.

Holly eyed this one even more suspiciously. "Looks like egg nog."

Artemis shrugged. "A decent guess at first glance, I suppose. But no, it's banana purée."

Holly sighed. "I don't suppose you'll tell me what this is about until after it's done?"

"Correct. Such is the way of blind experiments." He sighed wistfully. "Ah, science. My first love."

Holly raised an eyebrow.

"Well, it's second to you and the children _now_ , of course. I was saying science was my first love _chronologically_ , not in order of importance, because of course you're first now in order of importance..." he chuckled nervously. "Banana?"

Holly downed the banana with record low enthusiasm. "Banana," she confirmed.

"Right. Now, this next one is the last."

"It _better_ be."

This liquid was a purplish blue, and Holly noted that, unsurprisingly, it tasted like blueberries. She slammed the final empty beaker onto the counter, and said, "First strawberry, then banana, now blueberry. As much as I enjoy fruit, Artemis, I do _not_ enjoy being blindly led around in some experiment. So you'd better tell me what--Mmm..."

Holly could no longer speak then, for Artemis' lips were on hers, his tongue entering and tasting around her mouth with the ease of practice and Holly's wholehearted reciprocation, and then he was sweeping her up to sit her on the counter in front of him so that he might gain better entry. Holly and he ran their fingers through each other's hair, trying to pull each other as close together as possible. She could taste a few different fruit juices on him that he'd evidently been drinking. The mango was a particular highlight, oh so sweet...

After they finally broke for air, panting, breathing in the fruity scent of each other, their faces mere inches apart, Artemis was the first to speak. "My theory was correct... Even after your second and third drinks, I _can_ still taste the strawberry on you."


	3. February

_I hope she will say yes._

Artemis Fowl sat at his study's desk, massaging his temples, trying to figure out the best way to go about asking a very important question. A question that people all over the world struggle with around mid-February every year. The fact that others struggle as well did little to calm his nerves, though.

_Perhaps I should simply ask her._

_Nonsense. This requires delicacy._

"Hey Arty, what's up?"

 _Oh no._ Holly had walked right through his study door and hopped into the chair opposite his desk, as if she owned the place. _Have elves no respect for meditative thinking spaces? Or is it just this one elf in particular? Ah well, here goes nothing._ "Well, if I'm being honest..."

"I would prefer that, yes," she smirked.

 _Out with it._ "Alright, but only since you asked." Artemis cleared his throat with dramatic flair. "I feel no small amount of pressure asking this of the great-granddaughter of Cupid himself, but, Holly Short... will you be my valentine this year?"

Holly looked at him funny for a second.

_Please say yes. Please say yes._

Then, affection spread across Holly's face as she took notice of the vulnerability in his features. "Artemis," she began, with the same warmth that had first thawed him all those years ago.

Artemis' breath caught. "Yes?"

"We've been married for years, now, Artemis." Holly's smile was worth more than all the gold in the world. "I should think, and hope, that you know in your heart the answer to your question."

 _Thank the gods._ Artemis cleared his throat again. "Well, yes," he admitted. "But... it never hurts to clarify, you know."

"Oh?" Holly sat forward, intrigued.

"Yes," he said, leaning across his desk to nearly meet her halfway, "You can never be too sure. Seeing as I fall in love with you all over again each day, it seems only logical to ask you to be my valentine each year."

Holly could not decide whether to kiss him or punch him for subjecting her to such mush, so she split the difference, reached the rest of the way across his desk, and gave him a playful shove back into his chair. "Come _on_ , Arty," she laughed. "This kind of flattery is not good for my ego."

Artemis mock-pouted and crossed his arms. "Might I remind you that it was _you_ who waltzed into my meditative space like you own the place--"

"I _do_ own the place."

" _We_ own the place. As I was saying, you are the one who asked me what was 'up.' And then, a classic mistake, you asked for honesty."

Holly settled back into her chair, enjoying this latest round of banter in their lifelong game of wit. "Mm, yes, I should know better than to do that by now, shouldn't I?"

Artemis shrugged. "Ask, and ye shall receive. Or would you rather I hold back when I think of a particularly smooth line that describes how I feel?"

"Smooth?" she snorted. "Not a chance. In fact, you were so _sheep_ ish there that I could've counted you if I were trying to fall asleep."

In her presence, Artemis laughed easily. "Noted. I shall have to work on my delivery."

"Yes... but not _too_ much. You've got to keep me grounded, after all. The praise might go to my head."

"Alright, then..." Artemis grinned wickedly, and counted off on his fingers. "You keep leaving dishes on the couch. You forgot to feed the fish all week. Last night you tracked mud in and ruined our rug. And you--"

"Okay, okay," frowned Holly. "Consider my ego grounded."

"Really, I could go on. It's no trouble."

"Do you want me to be your valentine this year?"

Artemis hesitated at the suddenness of the query. "Yes...?" he ventured, hoping this was the right answer.

Holly leaned forward again, beckoned him towards her, and smiled slyly. "Well then, Arty, you're just going to have to shut up."

It had been the right answer. Artemis shut up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's Day! There's only been a little bit of A/H writing themed around this holiday, so I figured I'd add my take. Someday I might do more with the Cupid thing, which is mentioned on the very first page of Holly's first appearance in the first book, because it has potential, but I'd have to make sure it's suitably different than Kitsune Heart's take in Fowl Shorts ch15. Anyways, one line of dialogue in this piece was inspired by 9 Chickweed Lane 9-24-20, and the general idea behind this piece was originally inspired by a tumblr post I saw recently.
> 
> https://www.gocomics.com/9chickweedlane/2020/09/24  
> https://hxngmxnpage.tumblr.com/post/636638333023469569/dude-he-was-17-different-shades-of-red-asking-to


	4. The Last One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is kinda sad, but it fits with the Milestone theme. The A/H content itself isn't sad, they're together as strong as always, but the scenario they're in is kinda sad.

Artemis Fowl, grieving once more, struggled to stand at attention in the pouring rain. He looked much the same as he always had. Black tailored suit. Pale, smooth, youthful skin, hair that was still largely jet-black.

The difference today was, everyone around him was dressed in black as well. And the clouds over the funeral were of the same color as well.

To say that this funeral was the hardest he'd attended wasn't true. They were _all_ the hardest, as they all hit differently. But this one had an undeniable finality to it.

"He was the last one," Artemis muttered. The group of assorted fairies surrounding the burial plot nodded sympathetically. 

Beckett Fowl. The last of Artemis' links to the human world. Gone at 101 years young. 

Beckett was, unfortunately, but the latest in a long list of humans to perish to old age while Artemis himself still felt as youthful as ever. For this was the curse of surviving the ages like the fairy folk did: watching the mortals, the ones you leave behind, slowly die before your eyes.

The group which was here to honor Beckett was diverse. Among them was an elf, a centaur, a dwarf, a demon, a tiny troll, a pixel... and a few human-elf hybrids.

The pure elf, Holly Short, at Artemis' side forever and always, wrapped an arm around his waist. Her usually fiery red fringe of hair was weighted down by the rain and its color muted, matching the mood of all present. "I'm so sorry, Arty," she whispered, so that only he could hear her. Her words were nearly lost in the downpour of rain... and the downpour of grief.

In the center of the ring of allies, sprawled across Beckett's plot, was Myles Fowl. He was still the spitting image of Artemis, and he was crying like he never had before. Myles' tears were those of someone who had bottled up their emotions for the past 100 years and not let them out. Because that's what Myles had done. Father's and Mother's deaths, and the Butlers', as they came one by one, were handled by Myles with stone-faced stoicism, as were most of his life's events. He had felt he had needed to put on a brave face for Beckett, who was always inconsolable at these things. Now, there was no one left to put on the brave face for, nor would there be for the remaining centuries of Myles' life.

For Myles, too, was on the journey of the ages with Artemis. Obsessed with eternal youth ever since he was a boy, Myles had, in effect, actually managed to cure the pesky problem of aging. He'd accomplished it only through many years of intense laboratory study and hard work, using the effects of troll venom that Lord Teddy had stumbled onto as a starting point. Myles had safely replicated the process largely thanks to some intensely focused and determined assistance from his brother Artemis, who had had a vested interest in being around for a few extra centuries himself. That vested interest's name was Holly Short. Artemis and Myles had put their heads together, and no problem in the world is unsolvable when that happens.

Tragically, it wasn't until well after Myles had indulged himself in the fountain of youth, when the twins were 20, that he had offered the treatments to Beckett, who responded, in no uncertain terms, "thanks, but no thanks." After Myles had picked his jaw off the floor, Beckett explained the problem. He had fallen in love with a human woman. Which wasn't news to anyone, they were married after all (and were now buried together, reunited at last), but at the time, Myles, in the biggest miscalculation of his life, had simply assumed Beckett would be coming with him on this latest journey, as he always had.

At the stormy funeral, the pixel Lazuli Heitz, who had herself grown quite fond of Beckett from day one, held her ceremonial LEP officer's cap in her hands, wringing the rainwater (and her tears) from it. From time to time over the years, she would think of the day Beckett had refused the life-extending treatments, and today was certainly one of those days.

Artemis had understood Beckett's position immediately. The prospect of one lover outlasting the other by centuries had been one of he and Holly's biggest stumbling blocks. It was the reason he'd worked so hard with Myles on the solution in the first place. Artemis and Holly would have been together with or without it; they couldn't avoid it, try as they might. Their relationship was not contingent on his expiration date. But matching his lifespan to hers was a passion project for Artemis, borne from his selfish desire to be with her for longer than humanly possible. Holly did not object to this concept.

"We'll simply give the youth treatment to your wife, too," Myles had frantically suggested to Beckett, desperate to avoid the inevitable heartbreak. To which Beckett had pointed out, with far more maturity and rationality than anyone expected from him, that that wouldn't do either, and Myles knew it. Because then he and his wife would outlive their own children that they wanted to have someday. If they gave the treatment to their children too, then _they_ would outlive _their_ children after that, and so on and so on.

The chain had to break somewhere. Beckett insisted it be him. He knew that, in the end, this decision would hurt the least amount of people and expose the least amount of crucial secrets. Beckett's wife, and his eventual line of Fowls, should know nothing of the existence of fairies, or magic, or mythical treatments that could cure aging. The fairy People needed it that way. There were too many humans running around with forbidden knowledge as it was.

And Artemis, ever the environmentalist, knew that the secret to anti-aging could not become public knowledge. Mother Earth was hurting as it was with 8 billion humans constantly replacing themselves with new ones. To uncap the planet's population would have been a disaster. The only humans that could know about the fact Artemis and Myles had discovered the secret to youth were the three brothers, their parents, and the Butler siblings, which meant letting Beckett go... or else force him to abandon his human wife. There was no decision-making process for Beckett. He ended up outliving his wife by many years as it was, a fact that had not sat well with him. He had blamed the residual magic from when he was a toddler.

Now, Myles' designer suit was ruined as he lay atop his twin's grave, giving the rain a run for its money. "Why..." he kept repeating. "Why couldn't you come with us?" It was rhetorical, of course. He _knew_ why. But the pain at facing down the next several centuries without his other half was almost unbearable. The scar on his wrist, where the twins had been conjoined at birth, ached as if it knew its counterpart was gone.

Beckett's human friends and family, apart from Artemis and Myles, were nowhere to be seen. The several successive generations of Beckett's kin, and other humans who knew him, had had their own funeral service that morning, knowing nothing whatsoever of the fact that the long-lost brothers Artemis and Myles Fowl were in fact alive, living with a magical fairy folk, and were planning on visiting the grave with said fairy folk that evening.

Naturally, Artemis and Myles Fowl had had to mysteriously disappear, and be publicly presumed dead, when they were in their forties and thirties, respectively. It wouldn't do to have two perpetually youthful vampire-looking men living on a hill somewhere while human society aged around them. So they moved underground, to live among a society of people who lived similar durations and had reluctantly allowed them in. Their parents and the Butler siblings were the only ones who had known they still lived (aside from Beckett), and all of _them_ had declined the extended lifespan offer, too. Mostly for reasons that were variations of Beckett's, with more than one "I'm too old and tired to live for another thousand years" thrown in there.

At the gathering, Myles beat the ground. "Why did I have to be so obsessed with youth? Oh, what a fool I was..." Myles had accomplished so much, telekinesis even, but he couldn't even save his own brother. Lazuli Heitz now knelt beside Myles to lay a hand on his back in comfort.

Artemis was eternally grateful that Myles had been so obsessed. The fruits of the genius' labor were buying Artemis centuries of time with Holly. Today, though, his heart broke for Myles, who was not enjoying such benefits. He wondered if Myles would have taken back his decision to extend himself through the ages if he'd known from the outset that Beckett wouldn't be joining him. 

Artemis knew that Myles would have had to attend many a painful funeral, perhaps even Beckett's funeral too, even if Myles had only lived to eighty. But Artemis wisely judged that this observation would not help much. No thought would probably help much when faced with one's twin brother's tombstone for the first time. Not many thoughts were helping Artemis, that was for sure.

Holly looked up at her husband, who was obviously trying to prevent himself crying. "Come on, Artemis, it's okay. You can cry." Holly had shed a few tears herself. Now, though, as she looked at Artemis, she had the terrible thought that perhaps he was having doubts about his whole extended lifespan thing. Beckett's funeral was something he probably wouldn't have had to experience if he'd lived a normal life.

"He was the last one," repeated Artemis dumbly. Father, Mother, the Butler siblings, and all the other humans he'd ever met in his life save for Myles, were now gone. No one living on the surface anymore knew of Artemis' continued existence.

The dwarf Mulch Diggums, across from Artemis in the circle, was regaling to two of Artemis' children, human-elf hybrids who were young adults themselves now, the story of the time their uncles had been possessed by fairy ghosts. The story had been told to them a hundred times by now, but they listened politely. Naturally, Mulch's role in the tale was being greatly exaggerated.

The demon N°1 held another of Artemis and Holly's children in his arms, this one still quite tiny and fussy. N°1 whispered synonyms for various words to comfort them both. He could have magicked away the rain, but knew that despite its gloom, it also had a sort of cleansing power sometimes.

The toy troll Whistle Blower hung his head sadly, half-heartedly beating his chest in tribute.

Myles looked up at the familiar sound. He beckoned the creature closer, where a group hug was shared between the three surviving members of the Regrettables. Whistle Blower had always enjoyed seeing Beckett whenever he'd come down to secretly visit his brothers in the Lower Elements. Beckett couldn't exactly have a pet troll in his family life, after all. Some suspected that Beckett had shared with his wife the tales of his magical adventures he'd had as a boy, but no one ever pressed the issue, and in any case, she'd evidently taken whatever she knew to the grave.

"I'll take good care of Whistle Blower for you, Beck," whispered Myles to the ground.

Whistle Blower punched Myles' shoulder to show him what he thought about being considered a housepet, but there was no heart in it.

The centaur Foaly trudged over to where Artemis still stood in shock, and patted him on the back. "Come on, Artemis man. Don't be the only one not crying at your brother's funeral. It's okay to cry. At least, that's what Caballine tells me."

"Myles needs me strong," offered the Irishman lamely.

Holly squeezed his hand. "Foaly's right, Arty. Stoutness isn't good for you. Myles will understand."

A realization hit Artemis then. "Oh," he muttered. He looked down at Holly. "You're the last person alive who calls me Arty."

The memory of Beckett always beginning phone calls with "Hey, Arty," even when they were both centenarians, was what finally broke Artemis.

Myles, still on the ground, now found himself being tightly embraced by his sobbing brother then, which served only to reignite his own cascade.

Foaly, still standing by Holly, counted on his fingers. "Wait, really? No one else calls him Arty anymore? I thought I called him that."

"Not since he was 15, Foaly," chided Holly quietly. "That was a hundred years ago."

"Oh, wow. Time flies, huh." Foaly scratched his horns. "What about Mulch? I remember him saying _Arty_ at some point."

Holly frowned. "Again, that was a hundred years ago."

"And Myles?"

"Maybe when he was a toddler? It's always _Artemis_ or _Brother_ now, or _Dr. Fowl_ when he's in a bad mood."

"What about your kids?"

"No, Foaly, our kids do not call Artemis _Arty._ He's lucky when our oldest one calls him anything at all."

"Oh." Foaly took in the sight of Artemis sprawled over the grave with Myles, still crying. The centaur gestured to the broken Fowl men, who were beyond listening to idle conversation. "He needs you, you know. Now more than ever."

Holly nodded. "I know. It's scary sometimes. What's even scarier is how much _I_ need _him_." Seeing him broken down on the ground with Myles, she again had an inkling of fear that Artemis was regretting his lifespan decision.

*

* * *

*

At long last, the two remaining Fowl brothers and their fairy family and friends returned to safety deep within the earth. Myles wanted to stay at Beckett's grave, but there was no telling who would be visiting it during the day. Beckett was very popular.

Myles had his own custom house in the Haven City suburbs like Artemis and Holly did, but he found himself wishing not to be alone right now, so he was crashing on his older brother's couch for tonight, and for as long as he needed.

"The kids are asleep. So is Myles," Artemis reported, entering the master bedroom he shared with Holly, who was still awake and sitting on their bed.

"Good. That's good, right?"

Artemis shrugged as he changed into his nightclothes. "I guess." _If he doesn't have nightmares._

"You ought to follow suit, then. Rest," ordered Holly. She motioned to the space on the bed next to her.

"I don't feel like sleeping," he confessed. Even still, he climbed onto the bed, sliding his legs under the covers, coming to rest sitting against the headboard next to Holly.

"Do you want to talk about it, then?"

"Not really."

Holly absently lifted a hand to brush the unkempt, still slightly rain-damp hair out of Artemis' eyes. "I think we both know it would do you good, Arty. You don't have to be stoic with me."

Artemis caught her hand mid-motion. "I know I don't," he sighed, kissing her hand. "And I'm grateful. But tonight I just need to process it. I've already had my good cry. I'll be able to talk about it eventually, just like with all the others. Don't worry."

Holly gulped. _All the others_. "I'm sorry," she blurted, taking back her hand.

Artemis frowned at her. "What for?"

"Well, I know it's silly, but I'm sorry I had to be... you know. An elf."

Artemis looked at his wife with some concern. "Why on earth would you be sorry for that?"

Holly gestured to herself. "Because. I'm not human, so I... I couldn't grow old with you unless you went for this crazy, brilliant aging scheme, living for centuries, which, you know, meant you had to watch your brother age like that. You had to watch your whole inner circle of Fowls and Butlers and all your other human friends grow old and... _die_." She choked a little on that last bit, but pressed on. "All because of me. And... I'm afraid you're wondering whether... whether it's worth it."

Artemis went wide-eyed, momentarily forgetting his fallen brother. "Good god, Holly, that's _never_ been a question! I mean, think about it. I would have had to bury most of my inner circle even if I'd lived a human lifespan. Except Beckett, yes, and perhaps Juliet, despite her being seven years my elder..."

"Yeah," chuckled Holly despite herself. "She was outrunning you when she was a senior citizen and you had the body of a 30-year-old."

"True." Artemis smiled at the memory, then he sat up straighter, gently placing his hands on either side of her face so she couldn't turn away. "Holly... Look at me, Holly."

In his voice, Holly heard a level of tenderness Artemis did not often employ. She could not look anywhere but into his eyes.

"Believe me when I say this. You are worth _everything,_ Holly. Yeah, so I had to bury my younger brother when it's usually the other way around. That's unfortunate. But I wasn't living with Beckett, making love to Beckett, waking up every day next to Beckett, or raising a family with Beckett. Those things, are things I do with _you_. You and I are going to be growing old together, and I wouldn't trade this life together for _anything_. Understand?"

Holly wiped rogue tears from her eyes, nodding eagerly.

"Good." Then, Artemis' tone slipped into more bashful territory, as he continued, "And, I assume... Well, rather, I _hope..._ that you still feel that same way, about me?"

Holly let out an ounce of laughter at that, her first since the start of this awful chapter. Still, it was enough to make Artemis momentarily forget his worries. "Yes," she breathed. "Yes, of _course_ I still feel the same way. I always will."

"That's... good to know."

"I haven't been carrying your children out of boredom, you know."

"Wait, really? I thought for sure that that was why."

Holly playfully swatted his arm. Then she remembered how this conversation had started, and couldn't help the guilty look that appeared on her face. "Artemis, I'm so sorry."

"Oh? What is it this time?"

"I'm serious. I shouldn't have doubted your resolve, even for a second. I don't know why I said what I said."

Artemis ruffled her auburn hair. Its fiery aura was slowly returning as it dried. Artemis' smile was also returning. "You said it because you're honest to a fault. And don't worry about it. Rumour has it, I've had my fair share of insecure moments in this relationship myself."

Holly chuckled once more, glad to be back to this comforting space of shared wit, even for a few moments. "Yeah, you have." She intertwined her fingers with his. "Thanks for the reassurance, Arty."

"Any time. And, about the way you often call me Arty..."

"Yeah?"

"You're the only one who uses it now, as I mentioned earlier..." Artemis tried to put the reason for that fact, Beckett's death, out of his mind for the moment. "And, well, I'd like it if you were to keep using it, for as long as you're willing." He again seemed almost bashful, even after all these years. Close to a century. "If that's okay with you, of course."

Holly smiled. "No worries. I'll keep the term of endearment alive for as long as we shall live... Or until you get sick of it... Arty."

Artemis smiled back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not really sure where this one came from. I'd tag just this one chapter 'major character death' if I could. I just got to thinking the other day about the term "Arty," and if there was anything I could do with that which I hadn't seen before. This chapter also required using ctrl-F on the text of every book, to verify the people who called him Arty. Turns out it wasn't just Holly, the parents, Beckett and Juliet like I remembered. In the later books, Mulch and Foaly said Arty several times, as did Myles once in Last Guardian. So I had to add the Foaly conversation here to satisfy that fact. Also, I'm sorry if the exposition or description of past events dragged here. It's not my best work, but I was really taken with this concept and so I had to end up explaining maybe a few too many details about how they got here, to satisfy my own curiosity. This is a wild stab into an unexplored time period, so I apologise for the excessive recounting. Please let me know if anything's confusing or unclear. I'm open to editing this one to smooth it out if need be.
> 
> A couple of other notes: Not all the chapters in this work may end up being 100% canon with each other. Taken generally so far, most everything sort of fits together (Artemis with extended lifespan, etc), but there may come a time I want to change a piece of backstory or scenario details for a short. Also, it's canon that Beckett will have children when he's around 30, it says as much in the 2nd Fowl Twins book, same thing with Myles accomplishing telekinesis. The "troll venom extends lifespan" thing that Myles worked on is also of course from Fowl Twins, a device which is perhaps that series' greatest gift to the A/H shipper. The fact Artemis helped with it so that he could be with Holly longer is, unfortunately, not exactly canon yet.
> 
> Lastly, I have not a clue what to name Artemis and Holly's children. In various A/H works I've seen everything from Artemis III to Coral to more Greek God names; so far nothing has really jumped out at me for my own work. There'll maybe come a time when I have an idea for a short that's centering around the kids though, where I'll have to decide on names, so I'm leaving myself room by leaving them unnamed so far. Also, it's canon that elves can only have a child every twenty years, a fact mentioned early in the first book. It's also canon that humans and fairies can indeed have children in the first place, via the code at the bottom of the pages in certain editions of Arctic Incident. When I mentioned that there's two 'young adult' hybrid children at the funeral (in addition to the baby or small child that N°1 holds), that can potentially mean they're of ages 20 and 40, perhaps one could even be 60, numbers which to elves are still young adults. How old is the 'oldest' that Holly mentions, and are they one of the ones attending? I really don't know. For now, we can all project whatever traits we want onto them, I guess.
> 
> And by the way, I'm not trying to brag about my sick deep-cut references when I say "this and that is canon," I'm just making an academic note for those who may see some things in my stories and understandably go "huh?"


End file.
